


death of a bachelor ; ryden + ryllon

by wallofunhappyhearts



Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy, Panic! at the Disco, The Brobecks
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-07
Updated: 2017-01-07
Packaged: 2018-09-15 13:17:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9236786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wallofunhappyhearts/pseuds/wallofunhappyhearts
Summary: You don't speak here. There's a wide set of rules. Break them, and things will definitely go wrong. Nobody knows why you can't speak, but we all have a growing suspicion that it has something to do with the cult leader. Nobody knows his name. I don't even know my name, we aren't assigned names, just numbers. I'm number 176. The 176th person to be brought up under his laws. Where I came from, I don't know. Our memory is limited, but our senses of what's wrong and what's right isn't. Despite all these rules, we have one way to communicate. Telepathic messaging.





	

** _— CHAPTER ONE, PART ONE_ **

The man was victorious, sure, but my stomach wasn't.

I didn't like being forced to watch these kinds of things, but it was against the rules to riot against it. 122 stood beside me. He had darker brown hair that fell across his face perfectly, the jawline that could kill, and a tinier figure. Granted, he was short, but that didn't lead him to be overlooked.

The boys in the ring were there for a reason. The first, 38, was there for every fight. He was tough, bold, and trained in this warrior, martial arts typed fighting. He had body ink all over his arms, black hair, and eyes that often glinted with amusement to match the smirk that splayed over his lips.

The other kid had no chance. If only I could've helped him.

The other kid, 163, was shorter, by about three inches. He had short gingery colored hair and a thicker form. His skin was pale, and his green-blue eyes held constant fear of anything bigger or unknown to him. 38 was definitely both adjectives. Bigger and unknown to him. 

It was no surprised that he was beaten to a pulp. In fact, he was beaten to death, with everybody standing around the fence to watch. Nobody knew the cult leader's name, so we all made a silent agreement to call him 1. After all, nobody we'd come across had gotten assigned the name 1.

1 had dragged 163 out aggressively, holding him by both upper arms as he tugged at him. Obviously, 163 refused, and dug his heels into the damp soil beneath them. Despite his claims that 1 had grabbed the wrong guy, 1 had disposed 163 into the center of the pit, and waddled out.

The pit was a different story. It was muddy inside, with tuffs of grass occasionally sticking out somewhere. To keep those being punished _inside_ the pit, it had been fenced in by thick logs, rounded to a point. 38 was to one side of the pit, held back by to shorter people, who barely managed their job. 

The silence that had filled the air was haunting. Nobody spoke. Then again, nobody _can_ speak. We just watched on from over the fence posts, after having been summoned to the pit from our original jobs. 

Out of all the things I could remember from the vicious fight, the one thing I remembered most was both 122 clinging to my hand, and how  handsome 1 appeared, perched inside the tree that over looked the pit. There had been a platform built around the top of the tree, so it was more of a tree fort, than anything else. 

Everybody gossiped about 1, from his secret plans, the way he always held a sinister smirk, to how he looked. Of course this gossip was done through out telepathic messaging. The only thing I would usually convey to others when communicating was his appearance. He didn't look hot, but he didn't look cute, either. He looked pretty- it was undeniable.

1 had thick locks of light brown hair that fell into his eyes in more of an artist way. He had blue grey eyes, fair skin, and his height was only helping him surpass perfection. He was taller than a majority of the people here. In fact, he was the tallest person I had seen milling around this place. Instead of watching the fight, I watched 1, adoring everything about him.

The way he pursed his lips, or tugged at his ear. That look he got on his face when 38 sent a blow in 163's direction. It was as if he was satisfied with what he was causing, and if he was satisfied with it, then so was I. So far, my favorite thing about the leader was when he bit his lip to contain a smile. Whether it was sinister or not, he always tried to hide his emotions. Watching him near the state of happiness made me feel good. 

I was so focused on 1, that when I looked back towards the pit for the third time, 38 was finished, towering over the body of 163, who was soon to be dispatched. That's what 122 and I did. 1 waved his arms from the tree podium, and as expected, everybody began to fall away, shuffling off into the shadows. 

I finally became aware of 122 clinging to my hand. I looked down at him, and automatically, a wave of guilt washed over me. His eyes mimicked the amount of fear 163 had held in his eyes during the fight. Before I could bring up the obvious answer to the situation, we were interrupted, our hands torn apart by another.

Now this one was 4, and he was one of 1's closest friends. He had blue eyes, a thicker form, and brown hair. He always had a stubble and a dark look on his face. At the moment, he had a firm grip on 122's wrist. 4 shoved him, and 122 lost his balance, colliding with the floor.

I had the overwhelming sense of protection grow inside me as I watched the scene unfold, but I couldn't do anything about it. My lips curved into a frown. 4 was leaned over beside 122, his eyes squinting at him. He still had a hand around 122's wrist, there was no way he could escape. Based on the expressions changing in the two's faces, I assumed they were having a conversation. 

When you're having a conversation with someone, nobody else can hear, and it came in handy for trying to keep secrets.

4 finally released 122 when the other whimpered, and begun writhing around on the ground, kicking dirt up as he tried to clear 4's voice from his mind. I watched with a grim expression as 4 turned and wandered off, only to greet 1 a few meters away.

I frowned, my attention once again being drawn to 122, who raised his head, then warily struggled to his feet to shoulder me in the direction of the pit.

We both knew not to bring up the conversation 4 had with 122. We both knew that the body wouldn't be disposed into the river until the moon was at it's highest point. We both knew that once we tugged 163 down to the river bed, and left him to drift off without hesitation, we would be obliged to sit vigil for him, like a tiny funeral.

**_ — CHAPTER ONE, PART TWO _ **

The moon had finally risen to it's highest point, so 122 and I began heaving 163 down to the river near the village. The village was only used for the slumberland, which was ultimately when everybody would be confined to their own properties after curfew. 

» { Any idea what 163 did ? } : 176 ··> 122

122 seemed surprised by the question, but I meant it. I was genuinely curious. I wanted to know if it was really just some stupid rule the kid had broke, or if he'd done something severe, such as being caught with food before it was given.

» { He broke curfew . } : 122 ··> 176

» { Aren't we technically breaking curfew ? } : 176 ··> 122

» { Under 1's orders . } : 122 ··> 176

After his last reply, I fell silent. I felt a sense of protection knowing 1 was technically in charge of all of our lives, because I trusted him to protect us. 

122 lifted 163 up from under the arms, and with my help, we settled him gently atop the raft made of four thick, straight wooden planks. Built by yours truly, 38. Finally, we were ready to let 163 float off. Though maybe a second before I was ready to release him to the river's currents, 122 intervened, clinging to the raft with one hand, while his other was held out in front of me, signaling for me to stop. 

So I did.

» { What's up, 122 ? } : 176 ··> 122

» { Don't you think we ought to give him a name ? } : 122 ··> 176

I frowned for a moment, as 122 motioned towards 163.

» { He has a name. 163. What else could it be ? } : 176 ··> 122

» { Patrick . } : 122 ··> 176

Again, I frowned, but 122 held a content expression on his face. In the moonlight, the way the moon's beams hit his face perfectly, I couldn't help but feel butterflies in my stomach. He looked charming, despite the dirt smeared across his face from earlier.

» { Patrick ? He can't go by Patrick , we all go by numbers . Clearly . } : 176 ··> 122

122 huffed, tugging the raft up to the shore again, despite my head shaking. What was he getting up to? I'd already sacrificed my warmth to wade into the cold water, so why were we coming out?

» { But numbers don't define who we are . Wouldn't you like to go by something else ? Something that defines your personality ? Wouldn't you like to be unique , 176 ? } : 122 ··> 176

» { Yes , but . . . what would I go by ? Who would I be ? } : 176 ··> 122

The idea of going by these said names was beginning to warm up to me. I was starting to take a liking to it. If I went by a name other than a number..well, things would just feel easier.

» { Well , that's up to you . What do you want to be called ? } : 122 ··> 176

One name came to my mind almost automatically. Ryan. It stood for little king, and for some reason, I really took a liking to the name. 

» { Ryan , and you ? } : 176 ··> 122

» { Brendon . Ryan's a pretty name . } : 122 ··> 176

We both began smiling at each other, having another conversation with our eyes. 122, Brendon, was gazing at me with a look in his eye, it basically screamed "affection", and it made my cheeks heat up.

Finally, the two of us settled down for the night, curling up on the shore of the river after Patrick had been sent on his way. It was time for Patrick's vigil, and during the vigil, we weren't allowed to sleep. 

Despite the rules, I pulled Brendon over to my lap, and insisted he curl up. I'd stay up, and if anybody wandered along, such as 4 or 1, I'd wake Brendon up.

**_— CHAPTER ONE, EPILOGUE_ **

{ 122 } : Brown haired boy around the age of twenty two. Brown eyes, full lips, fit frame. Stands at about five feet nine inches. Pale skin. { Brendon Urie }

{ 176 } : Brown haired boy around the age of twenty three. Brown eyes, dainty frame. Stands at about five feet eleven inches. Fair skin. { Ryan Ross }

{ 1 } : Brown haired boy around the age of twenty eight. Blue grey eyes, well fit body type. Stands at about six feet four inches. Paler skin. { Dallon Weekes }

{ 38 } : Black haired boy around the age of thirty. Brown eyes, well built figure. Stands at about five feet six inches. Quite malicious. Fair skin. { Pete Wentz }

{ 4 } : Brown haired boy around the age of twenty two. Brown eyes, thicker figure. Stands at about five feet eleven inches. Pale skin. { Spencer Smith }

{ 163 } : Ginger-haired boy around the age of twenty five. Blue green eyes, thicker body type. Stands at about five feet five inches. Deceased. { Patrick Stump }


End file.
